


When Comes A Templar

by Eravalefantasy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A Druffalo?, Bad Smut, Confident Cullen Rutherford, F/M, Impossible positions, Intentionally Bad Smut, Intentionally Bad Spelling & Grammar, Kitchen Sex, Oral Sex, Parody, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Purple Prose, SexMonkey!Cullen, So far out of character it hurts, You've been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: My contribution for a Bad/Tropey Smut challenge on FB. Chastity Trevelyan and Cullen Rutherford survived the affair at the Winter Palace. With time to spare until they part company, Chastity and Cullen use the remaining days to find the perfect places for more adult pursuits. WARNING: This is intentionally horrid. It's over the top use of every thing that makes me cringe; too many euphemisms, impossible body positions, out of character interactions just to name a few.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an intentionally bad smut offering, pardon the purple prose, awesome alliteration, abundant adverbs and precarious positioning.

The sash in Chastity’s mouth tasted of him; a pungently sweet mix of wood moss and oaken barrels warmed in the sun. She bit down on the fragrant fabric another moan threatening to reveal their hidden rendezvous in the empty kitchen. Callused fingers pinched and tweaked her hardened nipple, the gentle friction sending a shudder through to her toes.

His passion pump separated her swollen folds. Standing on her toes she lifted her hips, allowing his sweet heat to plunge deeper. Their bodies moved, swayed and clung in desperate strokes towards the edge of bliss. Chastity knew he was close; his quiet grunts and groans followed his weathered hands grabbing her hips to speed his motions. He would wait for her, ever the gentlemen.

His throaty whisper driving her closer as his honey-dipped voice penetrated her ear. “May I, _my lady_?”

Cullen always asked permission before he allowed himself to release, the act of his selflessness sent her body tumbling into ecstasy. Every muscle shuddered, rising and falling screaming in orgasmic delight around his throbbing tumescence. Her lover slowed and pumped three times before releasing his steaming cream.

Voices carried through to their ears, and the lovers adjusted to hide further behind the large keg. Cullen could not stop his ministrations tracing lazy circles inside her sweetness sustaining the strum of her pleasure. Had it not been for the sash, she surely would have cried out. Skin clung to skin, heat rising once again. Chastity tried to will the unwelcome intruders from the room.

The thundering heart within her chest, the roar of her blood racing through her all the while Cullen grinding against her once again compromised her sensibilities to abandon propriety and surrender to him.

The voices faded and the sound of the door being locked allowed her to release the moan she fought so diligently to hold back. Emboldened by their solitude, she brazenly lifted on her toes to raise her hips against him. Taking his cue from her, Cullen adjusted to slip even further within.  Another wave of pleasure rose like the sea in a storm. Each thrust crested as a crashing wave upon her silken shore.

She cried his name again and again, pleading to carry her into eternity on the strength of his love. His voice thick with lust, Cullen assured her. “As my lady commands.”

__________

Dressed and prepared to return, Cullen’s urgent post coital kisses pushed his fevered flesh to seek her naked wonder yet again. “Cullen, I’m sure that search was for us.”

Ignoring her warning, he allowed his lips their prize, her perfectly formed earlobe. He suckled, nipped and licked until a wanton moan spurred him on; his hands deftly working the buttons of her dress uniform once more.

The kitchen door slammed against the wall and the two froze. A dramatic cough preceded a rather perplexing collection of words. The stilted and mechanical speech caught Chastity’s attention.

The familiar deep voice of Varric pierced through the room. “Say Sparkler, if I were looking for the Inquisitor, would I search in here?”

Dorian copied Varric’s strange delivery. “Why no, Varric. Our dear Inquisitor would never cavort in such a place knowing her presence was required immediately in the Grand Ballroom.”

Alone again, Chastity’s reluctance to leave Cullen lasted but a moment as she recalled Dorian’s thinly veiled warning. Crushing her lips to his, she smiled through her kiss; her hands grabbed at his muscular backside; a playful squeeze promised far more once she completed her obligations.

“Trophy room office after the banquet. I’ll be waiting, Cullen.” 

An eager twitch from his nether parts against her leg flooded her cheeks with rich color. Straightening her clothes, she brushed imaginary lint from her chest and grinned at him. “How do I look?”

Passions blazing, he growled in response. “Delicious, my love.”

Chastity hurried into the Vestibule amidst the discerning glares from her companions. Vivienne and Josephine huffed in unison, both mortified at the Inquisitor’s inability to keep her libido under control. Her usual crew comprised of Varric, Bull and Dorian snickered together with Sera in a corner.

Her eyes flashed in anger silencing the gossiping group before Leliana snatched Chastity aside. The Spymaster’s icy glare followed Cullen’s entrance into the Vestibule. Chastity covered her mouth to hide her amusement. Somehow, he’d managed to compose himself once more into the perfectly styled and shy Commander of the Inquisition.

“Inquisitor! There you are at last,” his exasperated sigh a complete ruse, “you really shouldn’t stray so far. In the future, it would be better for you to stay close to me.” Cullen excused himself with a slight bow and the smallest trace of a wink in Chastity’s direction drew a deep flush to her face.

Leliana’s glare remained fixed as hushed words and strong admonishments against the slight to the court prompted a barrage of questions. “Where have you been? Josie’s fit to be trussed and tied.” Leliana considered her words, “sorry, a horrible choice of phrase, but you’ve had us all running in and out without end!”

“Cullen, too!” Dorian offered amidst tittering and twitters of the group. Chastity could see Sera clamping her hands over her mouth so as not to laugh aloud. She’d get Dorian back for his teasing, but right now the mage and her companions were enjoying themselves a little too much.

Varric took over adding quickly, “you know Cullen. Always ready to do what’s necessary; opening the gates, exploring the palace, securing the ranks.” Varric yelped as Sera kicked him. “Oh, I’m talking too much again. Got it. So, shall we?” The dwarf pointed toward the Grand Ballroom, the venue for the night’s banquet.

“Yes, Varric.” Dorian hissed, “I believe we all get the point.”

Bull muttered without thinking. “Someone sure did.”

Chastity pointed at each of them, her face burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. She extricated herself from Leliana’s grip, venom coating her words. “One more word. Try me.”

Bull opened his mouth, and thought better to keep silent, shaking his head instead.

____________________

Chastity had nearly choked several times over the course of the banquet. Cullen discussed swordsmanship with some inconsequential Marquise sitting across from her. As the wine and ale flowed, Cullen no longer hid behind pretense, even his conversations dripped with innuendo.

“So how you grip a sword is more than just simple barbarism?” The Marquise asked.

Cullen nodded. “Of course! This is no mere stick you swing about poking it this way and that without a care or true understanding.”

The Marquise asked him to continue.

“One must fit a hand firmly, but not squeeze, it serves none to choke so far or tight on the hilt. Feel the weight as it rests in your hand, it is a part of you, and not to be toyed with.”

The older woman laughed. “But is it not heavy and unyielding?

Cullen shot a look to Chastity before he answered. “As in life, Marquise, there is a size meant for all, when you find the hand fits the hilt with such sweet perfection, it rolls gently at first. A firm yet practiced grip becomes more than just random thrusts and wild strokes. What seems to have little effect in fact changes, strengthens and emboldens the swordsman to see the campaign through to its climax. I can assure you with practice – the act is sublime.”

Chastity prayed silently for her body to ignore Cullen’s blatant words. His newfound confidence both a boon and a mystery. Until he’d taken her atop his desk, they desired one another from afar. Stolen kisses, awkward fumbling in dark corners, Cullen often splitting himself while they rutted always waiting for the perfect time, the perfect place.

But after he’d plucked her flower from the sweet sugared basket of her womanhood? Chastity often tried to make sense of the change in him, the once shy and unassuming Commander could hold her enraptured with a simple glance or a smile. She’d wondered if all his talk about mages and the dangers of blood magic a smoke screen for surely the only explanation for her covetous thoughts of him any time they were near one another. She was completely, unequivocally, wholeheartedly in love with Cullen.

Her amorous thoughts returned to the fair-haired configuration of divinity and carnal desires as he spoke to the older woman.

A quick glance across the table nearly drew a gasp from Chastity.

“Marquise, how wonderful to have you as a dinner companion.” Cullen’s slight bow of his head elicited a girlish laugh from the old woman.

“Commander, the pleasure is all mine. I will admit to reservations when you first arrived, but you are utterly charming. Who would have thought you to have had so much experience with nobility?”

Chastity watched him lick his lips fully before answering, savoring his carefully chosen words.

“The Marquise is correct; my position under the Inquisitor allows unique circumstances beyond that of your average soldier.”

A linen cloth blocked her view. Vivienne leaned close enough to whisper. “You have a bit of drool, my dear, you might consider staring less and conversing with others. Failing that, do consider the silk cushion you sit on and excuse yourself.”

Dizzy from the unsatisfied hunger Cullen managed to ignite, Chastity thanked the Empress and the Court and excused herself, citing the overwhelming beauty and sumptuous fare. With leave to depart, she hurried from the ballroom to her destination – the trophy room. Empress Celene allowed Cullen use of the office once belonging to Gaspard until the Inquisition’s planned departure the following day. This would be their last chance together.

 

The trophy room, a testament to Gaspard’s pathologic need to prove his prowess boasted numerous full body trophies of his hunting kills across Thedas. Many of the creatures on display she’d encountered, some without the opportunity to examine more closely. “It’s not easy to appreciate the beauty of a creature when its goal is to devour you.”  

The latest edition, a druffalo, stood in a temporary space behind a full adult quillback. She’d never been able to get this close to a druffalo without one of her companions attacking the bloody things. Burying her fingers in the thick fur, a strange familiarity tempted her finger tips.

She checked the room, stepping around the quillback. Satisfied the room empty except for her and the collection of trophies, Chastity returned to the druffalo and rested her head against the fur. Flashes of memory spurred by the softness and fullness against her cheek instantly conjured memories of Cullen.

Eyes closed, she savored the recollections of strong arms encircling her, promises of love and affection and every prelude to their time together, kindling her need for her Commander once again.

Her need a beacon, Cullen entered the trophy room securing the outer door and stepped around the quillback to see Chastity in quiet bliss resting against the beast. “Made a new friend?” The warmth and richness of his voice, laced with desire, quickened her pulse. “Should I be jealous?”

She stammered out the start to her sentence. Exhaling loudly, Chastity explained she realized his beloved mantle sported the very same fur she now touched.

Cullen sighed, eyes gliding from her glistening cerulean orbs down her limber yet voluptuous curves, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips in appreciation. Each time the red tip poked through she gasped, her breath catching as Cullen moved near. “If you wish to be alone-”

“No!” Chastity’s cry, laced with immeasurable need quickly gave way to a pleading voice. “Please, Cullen.” She implored him, eyes brimming with yearning for the man before her. “I am ever yours.”

Practiced fingers worked without a guide to free her from her tunic as he hummed in response. “As am I yours, my love.” Impassioned words dissolved into a sizzling kiss, Chastity melting into him.

Cullen’s hands roamed under her opened tunic, freeing her pert peaks from beneath the cloth band. “Do you trust me?” Cullen waited for Chastity’s assent and lifted her to sit atop the back of the beast.

“Cullen?” Unsure of what he planned, she waited for his plan to unfurl.

“Forgive me, but I’ve wanted to. . .and now – if my lady will indulge me but once.”  A single nod enough for him to gently guide her leggings down her hips and gliding his fingers past her silken thighs and shapely calves until the offending fabric lay in a heap on the floor. Cullen climbed astride and sighed once more at the sight of her. “You are exquisite perfection.”

She reached toward him, and when he declined she gasped. “Not yet, my love.” Cullen’s soothing words and guiding hands eased her unclothed body towards the head, raising her hips on the beast’s back. They rose higher lifting her steaming sex closer to him. “Perfect. If my lady approves?”

Unsure, she simply nodded. But her voice sprang free of its uncertainties, as his lips and tongue tasted her creamy center. Her hands grabbed wildly searching for anything to anchor her. Back arching, hips thrust toward his eager mouth. Pressing her lips together to hold in her cries, the tremors within her and the sounds of his enjoyment pushed her quickly into a blissful frenzy.

Chastity huffed, her chest rising and falling while her body still thrummed in delight. She heard him mutter a curse and then return. Sitting upright, her eyes widened to spheres at the sight of his throbbing lance of love pulsing in its desire filled dance.

His eyes blazed in amber honeyed flames as he spoke, “I see my lady finds me in her favor.”

“Oh, yes!” She exclaimed, nodding vigorously. “Please!”

Cullen responded with a low and lusty chuckle, lifting her with little effort.

Chastity closed her eyes, lowering herself onto him; she relished the fullness of him filling her soft folds.  In his excitement, Cullen bucked his hips up and quickly apologized. “Forgive me,” he breathed, caressing her cheek before covering her mouth with his in apology. Once delivered, he held her gaze and moved gently, melding them together.

Gripping her lover’s shoulders, Chastity rolled her hips into his. Slowly at first, mocking the galloping beats of her heart and rapid pant building with each breath, Chastity swore he’d swelled even more within her.

Cullen, for all his control, slipped his hands around her flushed back. His hot hands squeezed and lifted her rear in synch with her motion. Finding their rhythm, Chastity moaned as his swollen sword plunged deeper with each motion. “Cullen-“ A more powerful surge stole her breath, her head tilting back.

Despite the need to hold this moment of bliss, her body demanded release, her inner folds pulsed around him pleading with his shaft. Her body slumped forward with the force of her orgasm, and then gripped her again, sending her head backward, body arching away from him.  Cullen would not last, his sack tightening, his own grunts and groans raising in volume to match hers.

“May, I?”

She’d barely heard his breathy request, Chastity nodded, the building anticipation coaxing tears from her eyes. “Please, Cullen.”

In a swift motion, he cradled her neck and shifted their bodies until she -fully prone on the beast’s back- afforded him the room to delve faster and faster until she felt the first burst into her love channel.

His deep groan slowed his motions, long strokes parting her precious petals to coax every bit of his seed into her slick sheath.  Spent, Cullen rested his head on her abdomen, his choppy breath slowing as he held her. Soft gentle kisses on her slick skin preceded his adoring voice. “My love, I am - _ever_ -yours.”

She smiled, allowing the euphoria to course through her as she responded. “As am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it through this bad smut offering.
> 
> All credit to AO3 writer sangosweetz on the use of her head canon in regards to Cullen's mantle being derived from druffalo fur.


End file.
